


coal dust sunset

by foundation



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: A Drabble Disguised As A List Of Headcanons, M/M, Transgender Carlos, When Is A Rambling Not A Rambling But A Love Letter?, genderqueer Cecil, navajo!cecil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundation/pseuds/foundation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil wakes to a coal dust sunset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coal dust sunset

Cecil wakes to a coal dust sunset. 

 

Carlos has been awake for thirty seven hours. Saving Night Vale. He doesn’t notice the sunset. 

He wishes he did. 

 

Cecil braids his hair every morning. He sleeps with it spilled everywhere; it looks like the after math of when Jessica Daniels exploded at the post office. It was blue black blue blue black black black then too. 

Cecil’s braid reaches the small of his back.

 

Carlos brushes his hair every few years. His hair is littered with salt; it brushes the bottom of his jaw. 

 

Cecil has ribbons in his hair. They are the colors of desert wild flowers. 

 

Carlos has two scars on his chest. 

 

Cecil wears a black skirt and a black t shirt. It shimmers like snake skin, his skirt. 

 

Carlos has The Lab Coat on from the previous day. It doesn't matter. It’s the same one every day.

 

Cecil has skin the color of caramel a little bit more burned than Carlos’. He has tattoos in all the colors. He has some tattoos in colors that Carlos cannot focus on. They tell a new story today. 

 

Carlos has skin the color of nearly burned caramel. He has moles that make up the shape of absolutely so constellations. 

 

Cecil has whiskey eyes with static. 

 

Carlos has brown eyes.

 

Cecil would never attempt to change anything about Carlos.

 

Carlos would never attempt to change anything about Cecil. (except perhaps Cecil’s habit of screaming at precisely 3:33 am.)

 

Nothing is simply about Cecil or Carlos; this is what makes them beautiful in the harsh desert sunrise. They are as infinite as the sky, earth, city beneath the bowling alley. 

They are as terrifying as the dog park. 

That they are here at all is as impossible as angels. 

 

Cecil and Carlos for their twentieth date stay in. The have a romantic dinner of cold cucumber soup provided by the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. The Sheriff’s Secret Police listens and watches in. 

By the time the wind begins to scream they are on Cecil’s bed. They hold on tight and Carlos talks science and Cecil’s tattoo’s rearrange into new stories. 

 

No one ever told Carlos that falling in love would be like this. 

 

Cecil’s predecessor told him falling in love would be exactly like this.

 

Night Vale is so happy for their voice.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my love letter to Welcome To Night Vale. Also I was sick.


End file.
